Friday, April 15, 2011

The Fringe

In the morning, cold and quiet, no cars, no traffic, solitude. The mind wanders, set freen while the rest of the world sleeps. The images that go unseen (the homeless a sleep, time to read the grafitti, the cats on their porches, empty skyscapers light up against the pre dawn sky.

There isn't any waiting, at the intersections, on the weight machines, in the lap pool. The world is yours, on the fringe.

Not an easy place to get to. The allure of the flannel sheets on a cold morning is hard to let go of, as is the dannish with creamed coffee, or the remote control after a hard day at the offices. This is what the masses do. This is what they are trained to want. Think as a collective, all want the same thing, while all the while assured that they are still individuals.

On the fringe, we become the true independent, removed from the goose stepping march of the commuter, removed the from the talking heads of the morning news programs.

If you could float along your neighborhood streets while everyone is asleep and spy the world from a different angle, wouldn't you? If the world were a quiet and safe place with no worry or stress, wouldn't you want to go there? You can, it lays on the fringe. The fringe of your day, the fringe of the city, the fringe of your society.

The hardest part is just getting there the first time. Once you make it, you will wonder why you waited so long.